


the magic in a single word

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bad Cooking, Breaking Up & Making Up, Herbology, Hogwarts Professors, M/M, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: Neil stood under the umbrella flowers, an uncertain smile pasted on his face.  He looked different.  Exhaustion was written in every new line on his face and the dark circles under his eyes.  The scars on his cheeks were unfamiliar, straight lines on one cheek, circular blemishes on the other, likely made with magic so they could not be erased.  Neil took one limping step toward Andrew, a tiny potted plant in his outstretched hands.“Fuck off,” Andrew said.After an attack on Hogwarts, Neil ran.  Now, he's back but Andrew isn't going to just let him pick up where they left off.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 293
Collections: AFTG Exchange Spring 2020





	the magic in a single word

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @black-glasses-and-books for the AFTG Exchange Spring 2020. Hope you enjoy!

Andrew frowned as he pinched a wilting leaf between his fingertips. He had spelled this batch himself, not wanting to leave such an important task up to his students, no matter how accomplished some of them might be. He wasn’t sure what was wrong in this corner of the greenhouse, but he would need to be extra vigilant.

One of the panes of glass creaked behind him and he whirled to see one of his first year students, red faced and pushing on the window glass.

“Jack, what are you doing in here?” he asked, casting _Lumos_ on the tip of his wand so he could see what the little boy had been doing.

“I forgot my book,” Jack said, inspecting his feet to avoid looking Andrew in the eye.

Andrew raised one eyebrow, knowing exactly what effect the expression had on impressionable first years.

“Sheena dared me!” Jack protested. “I didn’t want to.”

Andrew took another step closer. He could still loom over some of the eleven-year-olds. “What exactly did Sheena dare you to do?”

“Just pick a leaf off the Venomous Tentacula! But I didn’t do it. You caught me,” Jack said.

“You’re lucky I caught you. There is a reason I don’t let students get near it before fourth year,” Andrew said.

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” Jack said sullenly.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Andrew said, already bored of this conversation now that he knew Jack hadn’t been the one to mess with his precious plants. “It will be fifteen if you’re not back in your dormitory in eight minutes.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” Jack squeaked, turning to run toward the castle.

“And stay out of my greenhouse!” Andrew’s voice was pitched just right so he wasn’t shouting but it would still reach Jack’s ears clear and firm.

“Terrorizing the first years already, Andrew? Most teachers give them a few days of grace,” Kevin’s mild voice reached his ears. The headmaster came and stood by Andrew and looked down at him disapprovingly.

“My Flutterby Bush is wilting,” Andrew said.

Kevin shrugged. “I think the person to ask about that would be Nicky. He’s been brewing again.”

“Damnit,” Andrew said. “So the bush is just collateral damage. I told him to stop coming in here. If he wants to experiment with teas, he can damn well grow his own plants.” He walked around to the other side of the bush to see there were holes in the soil where Nicky had pulled out some of his yarrow plants by the roots.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Kevin said, uncharacteristically timid.

Andrew didn’t bother with a response, just turned his head and looked the man in the eye.

“You know we’ve been looking for someone to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts—” he began.

“No,” Andrew cut him off.

“I didn’t even ask you anything,” Kevin protested.

“You don’t need to. The answer hasn’t changed. I like Herbology. I dislike forcing children to duel each other for entertainment,” Andrew snarled.

“We’re teaching them to defend themselves,” Kevin argued. “But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about. I already found someone.”

Andrew raised his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Neil is coming back.”

Andrew’s stomach lurched and he hoped he hadn’t made any visible sign for Kevin to notice. “Why?” he asked flatly.

“You have to admit, the man knows what he is doing. Where else am I going to find such a talented wizard with as much real world experience?” Kevin asked, eyebrows drawing down in a frown. “I ran it by Coach.”

“Neil turned this place upside down. We had dementors on the grounds. We had to obliviate half the students to spare them the nightmares. So forgive me if I need more than the word of the ghost haunting your office before I let that troublemaker return,” Andrew snapped.

“I know that’s not it. Do you think I’m bl—”

“Get out,” Andrew said.

“Andrew, be reasonable,” Kevin said.

“Get. Out,” Andrew growled through gritted teeth.

Kevin paled slightly, shut his mouth and turned on his heel to leave the greenhouse.

Andrew heaved a sigh of relief that he wasn’t trying to argue further and walked into the farthest corner of the greenhouse. He started deadheading the Flutterby Bush, allowing the repetitive action to ground him in the present. He hadn’t been okay when Neil had been taken. He wasn’t sure exactly what they’d been building up to, but he had been just about ready to admit it was something when he had been woken up by forbidden spells in the middle of the night. He had felt the drain on his soul from nearby dementors, sending him into vivid flashbacks of the time he had spent with one as his jailer.

By the time he managed to fight the panic down, Neil was gone, like he had never existed at all. He left nothing behind but the hole in Andrew’s heart and an owl a week later, returning the key to Andrew’s room in the Herbology Tower.

He was only starting to be okay now, after a long summer of forgetting.

“Andrew.” A hoarse voice broke through his focus and he whirled to face the intrusion.

Neil stood under the umbrella flowers, an uncertain smile pasted on his face. He looked different. Exhaustion was written in every new line on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. The scars on his cheeks were unfamiliar, straight lines on one cheek, circular blemishes on the other, likely made with magic so they could not be erased. Neil took one limping step toward Andrew, a tiny potted plant in his outstretched hands.

“Fuck off,” Andrew said, refusing to let relief force its way through the anger.

Neil faltered. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“Why did you come back?” Andrew asked. It didn’t come out quite as accusatory as he hoped.

“I never wanted to leave,” Neil said softly. “But it wasn’t safe—”

“I don’t want to hear it,’ Andrew cut him off. “You don’t owe me any explanation.”

“I want—” Neil tried again.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Andrew said coldly.

Neil dropped his head and set the little plant down on the floor. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, voice small.

“My greenhouse, yes. But other than that, I don’t care what you do,” Andrew said, turning his back on Neil.

“Okay,” Neil said. “I’ll just...I’ll go.”

Andrew didn’t turn around again until he heard Neil’s uneven footsteps retreating out of the greenhouse. He scooped up the little plant from its place. Rage welled up inside him and if it had been anything else, he would have smashed it on the floor. “It’s not your fault, is it, little one?”

He cradled it close to his chest and inhaled the fragrant scent of the flowers. He could feel himself calming down and he cursed Neil for knowing him so well. When he left the greenhouse to find his bed, he took the little pot with him, setting it by his bed so it was the last thing he would see before he fell asleep.

* * *

Andrew walked into the great hall for breakfast and nearly walked right back out again. His fellow professors were not in their seats, waiting calmly for breakfast to appear. Almost all of them were clustered around the end of the table, talking, laughing, and hugging as if Andrew hadn’t just walked into his own emotional hell. Aaron was the only one who was actually sitting in his seat and Andrew pointedly took the chair next to him.

“Not going to join the Josten Fan Club?” Aaron asked bitterly.

Andrew looked over and saw the reason for Aaron’s ire. Katelyn, the flight instructor, was standing right next to Neil, her arm linked with his, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Jealous?” Andrew smirked. “They’re probably just talking Quidditch.”

Aaron glared. “I’m not jealous of that asshole. I’m just…hungry.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, watching as Matt engulfed Neil in a bear hug, and probably not the first one if he could still read the fond but slightly exasperated look on Neil’s face.

Kevin entered the room, calling everyone to order. The professors returned to their seats, Nicky plopping down excitedly beside Andrew.

“Can you believe it?” Nicky squealed. “I can’t believe he’s actually back. I thought he was dead.”

Andrew winced, not wanting to be reminded of the week when he had thought the same. “Stay out of my greenhouse, Nicky,” he growled. “My plants are not your fucking playthings.”

“You know the visions are clearer when I add yarrow to the tea,” Nicky protested. “And you know those third years. They need all the help they can get. I think this year shows even _less_ aptitude than usual.”

“You say that every year,” Andrew argued. “And that’s no excuse for disrupting every other plant in the vicinity.”

“You never yell at Aaron for taking your plants,” Nicky protested.

“Andrew grows those plants specifically for my potions and I know how to harvest them properly,” Aaron said.

Breakfast chose that moment to pop out of the air and Andrew immediately ignored them in favour of filling his plate with pancakes and bacon.

Nicky and Aaron tried to draw him back into conversation but he had no interest in whatever banal topic they’d switched to. Eventually they gave up and chatted over Andrew’s head as he stuffed his face.

He couldn’t keep his attention from wandering down to the end of the table where Neil sat, sandwiched between Matt and Dan. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tune out his familiar voice. He knew every tone and inflection: how Neil sounded when sad, angry or excited, the way he said Andrew’s name when they were alone. He could be on the other side of the room and he would still be able to pick it out.

“Fuck,” Andrew said, tossing his napkin down on his half full plate. He didn’t look to his right, as much to avoid Neil’s knowing gaze as Kevin’s disapproving frown. He left the hall without saying another word.

* * *

Andrew made up his mind to ignore Neil, but it immediately became impossible. Andrew would go for a flight on his broomstick and see Neil in the distance. Andrew would climb the divination tower to smoke and find Neil on the opposite parapet, gazing off into the distance. Andrew would have a question for one of the other staff members and Neil would be there, grinning his familiar grin as everyone fawned over him. It was disgusting.

He retreated to the spaces he thought of as his: the greenhouse, the potions classroom, the kitchen. If he saw Neil coming, he turned around and walked the other way, even though the look of hurt on Neil’s face made Andrew sick to his stomach.

The alternative was worse. Andrew could let him in, could fall harder and faster, but he wouldn’t survive it when Neil left again.

Andrew started violently when he walked into the greenhouse. He had managed to avoid having a real conversation with Neil in the week since his return and Neil had obviously gotten fed up with waiting.

“What are you doing in here?” Andrew asked, crossing his arms and rocking up onto the balls of his feet to stare Neil down.

“Don’t worry,” Neil said, “I’m not here to talk. I know you’re not ready yet.”

Andrew raised one eyebrow but didn’t respond.

“There’s a salve…” Neil gestured to his face. “The scars tighten up and hurt if I don’t put it on regularly. I’m almost out.”

“So?” Andrew asked. “Renee’s in the infirmary. Ask her.”

“It doesn’t exactly use standard ingredients,” Neil said, hugging himself and rubbing his hands up and down his arms. “I checked with Aaron too; he doesn’t have everything I need in his stores and fresh herbs are better anyway.”

“So you thought you’d steal from my greenhouse instead?” Andrew asked, only then noticing that Neil’s pouch was empty.

The look on Neil’s face was scandalized. “I wouldn’t do that. I was waiting for you, to ask permission. I know how much these plants mean to you.”

“Oh.” Andrew relaxed, a sudden warmth stealing through him. “What do you need?”

Neil’s smile stole Andrew’s breath. “I need two seed pods from the Venomous Tentacula. And I know you always have Moly. And could I have some bark of the Wiggentree as well?”

“Knock yourself out,” Andrew said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

“Oh,” Neil replied, his face falling. “You know I’m pants with plants. I wouldn’t want to damage them.”

Andrew rolled his eyes but walked ahead of Neil, annoyed that he couldn’t go and hide in his room but also a little bit touched that Neil asked.

It didn’t take long for Andrew to show Neil to each of the plants he wanted. Neil did the harvesting but he waited for Andrew to show him exactly where to cut so as not to disrupt the growth of the plant.

It was on the tip of Andrew’s tongue to invite Neil over for a cup of tea when Neil stole his breath with another smile.

“I should be good for a little while. I’ll let you know when I’m running out,” Neil said. He paused for a moment, as if he was planning what to say next, but instead the tips of his ears turned red and he ran out of the greenhouse, tossing a quick goodbye over his shoulder as he fled.

* * *

Neil had, apparently, decided to step up his game. Andrew sighed as he saw the lumpy mess sitting on a plate on the floor outside his door. He thought they were meant to be cauldron cakes but they were conspicuously darker in color than the last batch Andrew had eaten. The icing was lumpy, thick, and unevenly spread and, when he picked one up to see if it was at all edible, he had to break through a crumbly carbon shell to see raw dough in the center. He attempted one bite but barely managed to get it into his mouth before he was running into his room and retching into his trash bin.

Neil looked hopefully at him at dinner that night but Andrew just scowled and shoved past him to sit beside Aaron.

Unfortunately, Neil took Andrew’s rejection to mean that he needed to try harder. Every evening for the next week, Andrew returned to his room to find yet another horrible confection, executed with dubious success. The sticky buns were worse than the cauldron cakes. The butterbeer ice cream had curdled and then melted when Andrew was later getting home than usual. The chocolate cake wasn’t bad; it had more of a cookie texture and was only about an inch tall but also only burnt a little around the outside edge and smothered in melted chocolate instead of buttercream frosting. The caramel popcorn tasted good but pulled out one of his teeth and he really didn’t know how to explain that one to Renee when he was sitting in her infirmary at one in the morning. The other three nights, he couldn’t even identify what the treats were meant to be and the scent of burnt sugar was so strong he walked it up into the divination tower and threw it away in Nicky’s trash bin.

Andrew developed a habit of popping into the kitchen unexpectedly to see if he could catch Neil in the act. On day eight, he opened the door on a scene of utter chaos. Neil was mixing something thick and gooey in a bowl and he was covered from head to toe in flour. Two house elves hovered helplessly, trying surreptitiously to mitigate some of the damage, turning down an oven set too high, moving the bag of salt out of Neil’s reach and swapping it for sugar, reaching into the bowl and picking out bits of eggshell when Neil was distracted.

Neil was so focussed that it took him a moment before he noticed Andrew. When he did, he smiled. Andrew immediately dropped his gaze to the mess in Neil’s arms so he didn’t do something stupid like forgive the asshole for leaving him.

“What are you doing here?” Neil asked, setting the bowl down precariously on the edge of the table. One of the house elves immediately made it disappear while the other set to work cleaning up the mess of chocolate, flour, eggs, and sugar covering every surface in the vicinity.

“I came to get you to stop terrorizing the house elves,” Andrew said, glaring fiercely.

“Did you enjoy—” Neil started.

“No,” Andrew cut him off. “Stop it.”

Neil’s face fell. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Andrew felt like even more of an asshole than usual. “I know.”

“Were they really that bad?” Neil asked.

“I lost a fucking tooth,” Andrew said flatly.

Neil’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. Renee fixed it,” Andrew interrupted. “If I invite you up to mine for a cup of tea, will you stop torturing the house elves and me with your awful baking skills?”

The smile was back on Neil’s face; Andrew’s fingernails were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

“I should probably finish…” Neil reached for the bowl he had set down and was shocked to see it had been whisked away and disposed of without a trace. The kitchen was spotless again and the house elves were no longer in sight. “Okay, yes. I’ll have tea and I’ll stop baking for now.”

Andrew nodded and spun on his heel to leave the room, Neil’s quick footsteps following him. He didn’t look at Neil the whole time he was boiling the water and setting out some chocolate biscuits that had not been touched by Neil at any point in the manufacturing process, but something about Neil’s presence in his room after so long felt like everything right in his world was just slotting back into place. Neil fit in his chair beside the window, as much a part of Andrew’s home as the chair Aaron had made in his woodshop phase and the windowbox of herbs he had been cultivating since he moved in. It was so tempting to relax, to let it happen, to let Neil come back like he hadn’t torn Andrew’s world apart when he left, like he wouldn’t do it again.

This didn’t mean anything. He had to invite Neil over to get him to stop baking. It was a one time thing.

* * *

It was not a one time thing. Slowly, Andrew and Neil returned to their pre-runaway routine. Andrew would head up to his room after class to find Neil sitting in the hallway outside his door. Neil would come in; Andrew would make tea. Neil would try one bite of whatever sweet Andrew had on hand; Andrew would finish it. Neil would bite his lip and look at Andrew like he was the answer to his every question. Andrew would close his eyes and pretend he didn’t want to kiss that look right off his face.

Neil was everything Andrew wanted and he was so close to letting himself fall into it again. But if Neil left, _again_ , Andrew wasn’t sure if he would have enough pieces left over to rebuild his broken life.

It was a cold day in November. The sky was grey and lifeless like a sheet of paper written with pencil and erased over and over again until it was soft and smudgy. Neil had received a letter at breakfast and had cancelled his morning class. Then he’d been jumpy at lunch and he had hardly spoken to Andrew.

Andrew didn’t push. He knew what this meant. Neil Josten was getting ready to run.

Neil cancelled his afternoon classes, too. All Andrew could hope for was that this time, Neil left a note to say goodbye.

He was in a foul mood by the time he had finished his classes. The plants could feel it. He watered them with extra care but they shrank away from him when he stroked their leaves.

The stairway was cold and it too seemed on edge. He almost tripped climbing off at his floor when the staircase changed too soon. He didn’t expect to see Neil curled up in a tiny ball outside his door, holding himself together with shaking arms.

Neil looked up at him with a tearstained face and Andrew said nothing, just picked him up off the floor and carried him in, setting him in the bed, wrapping him in blankets, and beginning the familiar ritual of boiling the kettle for a cup of tea.

Neil sipped the tea carefully and he slowly stopped shaking. Andrew waited, afraid this might be an illusion that would crumble at his words.

Finally, Neil detangled one arm from the blankets and handed him a crumpled piece of paper.

Andrew smoothed it out and realized it was the letter from that morning. It was from someone named Stuart Hatford.

_Neil,_   
_I hope this letter finds you well. I heard you had returned to Hogwarts and wanted to inform you that we were not able to find all your father’s lieutenants. Lola and Romero Malcolm are still at large. I know you have people you care about at that school and I urge you to think about their safety and come home. Only I can protect you now._   
_Stuart._

“You are really leaving,” Andrew said dully.

Neil started shaking again. “I have to. I can’t put you in danger again.”

“What do you want?” Andrew asked through numb, wooden lips.

“I need—” Neil started.

“What do you want?” Andrew asked again.

“I want to stay,” Neil whispered.

“Then stay,” Andrew said.

“It’s not that simple,” Neil protested. “What happened before...it could happen again.”

“This time I’ll be ready,” Andrew said. “I’ll protect you.” He reached out, his hand hovering inches away from where Neil clutched the blanket with white-knuckled fingers.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Neil whispered, even as he slowly released the blanket and allowed Andrew to take his hand and intertwine their fingers.

“You’re not asking; I’m offering,” Andrew said, gripping Neil tightly.

“Why?” Neil asked, raising his head so he could look Andrew in the eyes.

The words stuck for a moment in Andrew’s throat. He hated Neil for forcing him to admit this, but he knew it was the only way to avoid losing him forever. “Because of this. Because of us.”

Neil laughed but it devolved into a sob. “We’re an us now?”

“Yes or no, Neil?” Andrew asked.

Neil almost pulled his hand away, a fight visible in his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to detangle himself. “Yes.”

Andrew leaned in, slowly, giving Neil plenty of opportunity to pull away, and pressed their lips together. Neil tasted of tea and salt and desperation. He latched onto him like a drowning man and Andrew let himself fall into the kiss.

When it was over, Neil dropped his head to Andrew’s shoulder and nuzzled his face into his neck.

“Stay,” Andrew whispered.

Neil nodded. He relaxed into Andrew, letting himself be supported by Andrew’s strength. When he spoke, his voice was muffled by the fabric of Andrew’s shirt. “Okay.”


End file.
